The Sun

Grey is the sun,

Hung so far on high.

Meanly is clad,

In cloud laden sky.

Hence is the spring,

The morning is nigh.

Fake Tan Cupid

Fake tan cupid,

Burning with desire.

Gorged on false lust,

Flesh guilded fire.

Restless ever,

This beau for hire.

Always The Same

Always the same,

The change that never ends.

Natural flux,

From enemies to friends.

Life renewing,

As death leads us to birth.

Down toward skies,

Upward beckons the earth.

Welcoming tears,

Silence is blinding me.

Happiness now,

Where sadness used to be. 

Skin

Dark desire written here, 
In ink your life etched.
So, let swell that needles art, 
Carve the sweetest flesh.

Longing for arms to hold us,
So aches the heart.
This isolation dressed as lust,
We each played our part.

Beauty spreads across your skin,
While months they slip by.
Your easy mind relieves me,
Dreams are but a sigh.

Wednesday

Following Saxon sword,
Pagan passage,
Through Christian place.
God for whom this day is named,
Ancient and mighty,
Lost to us his face.

Tuesday

Tyr,
God of justice,
Ruling fairly with single hand.
At Ragnorok, the right was lost,
Taken by lycan lord, Fenir.
At Asgards final stand.

Threads

Let the yarn be gathered up,
Those agile limbs, well learned.
Comb and card, with hands worn hard.
Labours prize is earned

Let me here take up my place,
Just like those fates of old.
Sit and spin, whilst gossiping.
Ages past were told.

Let me work upon my loom.
Thus our passions weave be spun.
Weft and warp, in bliss be caught.
Cloth of care begun.